Please Pass the Jealousy
by JesterOfLullaby
Summary: (A Pelswick fanfic two shot). Teens want to hang out with friends and impress the ones they like. It's tough to have younger siblings. Learning that his brother and sister develops a better relationship to the new babysitter however, Pelswick grows jealous.


**Summary: A** _ **Pelswick**_ **fanfic two shot. Teens want to hang out with friends and impress the ones they like. It's tough to have younger siblings. Learning that his brother and sister develops a better relationship to the new babysitter however, Pelswick grows jealous.**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **Pelswick**_ **characters and plot belong to Nelvana Limited, Nickelodeon, and John Callahan**

 _ **Please Pass the Jealously Part I**_

Pelswick sat on the family sofa in their living room. His bright green wheelchair was placed next to the furniture, and next to him was a magazines stack. The glossy covers featured people wearing suits while carrying money bags. Avoiding any actual articles, his misshapen eyes searched solely for one piece.

"That's kinda funny," he remarked to himself, bearing a tiny, amused smile.

His younger sister entered the doorway. She placed her hands on her hips. "Hey, what are you doing with my magazines? You have no interest in _Economy Today_."

"I'm borrowing them. I'm looking for all the comics because—"

"You still have that artist block?"

"I haven't had a good idea in weeks," Pelswick groaned. "If I don't come up with something soon, I'll lose my edge in drawing."

Pitying her brother, the girl shook her head. "Poor Pelswick, age hasn't done him any good. He's clearly too old to have any imagination. Not like Bobby and me."

The Eggert clan's youngest member Bobby had been in the same room the entire time. Lying on his stomach, he had a coloring book in front of him along with worn down crayons scattered around him. Hearing his name, he turned to his older siblings and exclaimed, "'Gination!"

"Hey!" Pelswick defensively cried. "What do you mean I lack imagination? I bet the artist who drew these in your precious magazines is in his late forties. What kid with plenty of imagination uses bizarre wording and boring topics?"

"OK, perhaps a better word for 'lack of imagination' is 'drive'."

"I suppose I should respond to that with the clichéd line of being driven crazy in this house. But I have more wit than that. More imagination."

While Kate searched for a retort, the phone rang.

"Hello," Pelswick answered. Hearing the other line, his eyes excitedly lit up, and his voice became higher pitched. "Hi, Julie! You need someone to help pass out flyers for a big rally?! Of course I can help! I don't have any important commitments right now!"

Hanging up the phone, the young teen snatched his wheelchair and placed himself in the seat. He pulled back on the round handle and drove himself to the front door. Before he had a chance to open the door, he heard someone call out to him.

"Hang on, Champ," Quentin, the father of the three Eggert children, called. "I need you to watch after your brother and sister. I need to go down to the community center to pick up Gram-Gram for her community service."

"But she wasn't supposed to be picked up until five," Pelswick protested. He then displayed an amused grin. "What'd she do _now_?"

"I just got a call from her supervisor. She threw a bowl of chocolate pudding against a desk fan. She was just a few hours away from completing her punishment—err, her judged verdict."

"Right," Kate jumped in. "Because she made fun of a cop in a musical score she wrote."

"But, Dad, I can't stay," Pelswick objected, returning to the original problem. "I just agreed to meet Julie."

An idea quickly hit him, "To help her with some big, important rally. She and I are thinking about our futures. And colleges love seeing volunteer work on their applications, don't they?"

Quentin rubbed his chin, completing what his son had said. "Well, OK, Champ, but can you hold on until—"

"Thanks, Dad!" Pelswick yelled while racing out the door.

"—we find a proper sitter…" Quentin continued.

* * *

"Thanks for all your help, Pelswick," Julie said.

"Yeah, no problem."

The two commenced their plans in the public library. The weather was another typical Bayview day. Kids covered the children's reading room. Old people sat on benches outside and fed birds. Teens immersed themselves in another world while blasting their music via headphones.

"It's great to see people our age get involve with important events and take action rather than sit inside and watch TV or play videogames all day," the redheaded girl passionately added.

"Couldn't agree more," the boy nodded, masking his true intentions.

"Julie," Sandra began while she head over towards the pair. "You're, like, my best friend. But I feel there's something crucial I need to share with you."

"Oh, no," Pelswick groaned, understanding the girls' unhinged routine.

"What is it," Julie asked.

"I really admire what you've been doing," Sandra continued. "Starting a campaign to get kids to read. But wouldn't it be better if these flyers advertised talking books rather than children?"

And what good will THAT do?!" Julie protectively questioned.

Pelswick spotted people staring at him and the loud girls. He reticently smiled.

Despite their location, Sandra defended her stance. "Well, when people look at these flyers, maybe they won't be distracted by the HIDEOUS OUTFITS THESE KIDS ARE WEARING!"

"Sandra! We're supposed to be advertising for reading! Not fashion!"

"Can't people who read silly books in their spare time wear something that isn't totally dorky-looking?!"

"You won't be able see what they're wearing at all when I SHOVE MY FLYERS INTO YOUR FACE!"

The two dropped their flyers. Their eyes furiously scrunched. The library's serenity atmosphere transformed into a hurricane around them.

Seeing the two prepared to fight, Pelswick muttered, "I'll see you around, Julie."

He rolled his way towards the exit where he ran into his friend.

"You done impressing Julie for today," Ace asked.

"We spent the whole afternoon together," Pelswick smiled, confident in his action course. "She was more interested in her rally, but I stayed by her. One day she'll see that this guy, a stable choice, is best in the long run… even if I can't run."

"Cool. Wanna head down to the arcade in the mall? _Galactic Pinball_ came out."

"You bet I do!"

The two boys headed off towards the ultimate teenage paradise. Their peer groups would flock to the establishment selling the latest fashion trends and cutting edge gadgets. Cars zoomed passed them, and people shuffled around the motorized wheelchair to arrive at their own destination. On their way over Pelswick and Ace ran into their third friend, who was staring out into one specific area. The tall, husky boy proceeded to be awed and clapped. "Yay!"

"Goon, what are you doing?" Pelswick asked.

"Enjoying the lightshow."

"What lightshow?"

"Um…" Ace pointed towards the traffic light.

The lights changed again, and the slow-witted boy applauded once more. "Oooh!"

Pelswick and Ace swapped glances. Pelswick then directed, "Let's go play _Galactic Pinball_ now."

* * *

Guys packed the mall's arcade. Their oblong eyes glued themselves to the bright screens. Lights flashed. Sirens boomed. And the viewers hailed the kids who controlled the protagonists as heroes.

And everyone gave one gamer plenty of attention. Pelswick kept his eyes on the speeding pinball. The silver-colored orb strode on its path and clashed against every bumper and target. The machine decorated with spaceships and stars roared. And though new, the glass screen was already covered in fingerprints and grease. The kids and pre-teens became rowdy.

Yet Pelswick maintained his attention to the game. The ball landed in a slots-like machine. Combined with his growing points, the machine launched two balls. Now the thirteen-year-old needed to increase his focus. He pressed and pressed the side buttons to activate the flippers. He needed to watch himself, for the machine was tilt sensitive. He lost one of his extra balls, but he kept going. His determination remained strong.

Goon chewed on his fingernails while Ace cheered, "You got this!"

The final ball dropped into the drain.

Everyone focused on the panel.

The numbers climbed and climbed.

"Congratulations, space cadet," the man on the machine saluted. "You have saved the universe from impending doom. Well done."

"Wahoo!" Pelswick joyfully cried.

"He did it!" Goon and Ace cheered.

The boy in the chair placed in his name. The whole crowd applauded.

The trio ventured the arcade to see what else was available. A wrestling character cardboard stand-in quickly caught Goon's attention. When he reached the character, he began asking questions, treating it like it was a real person. Ace quickly went after him. While Pelswick prepared his chair to turn around, he heard a familiar voice. He spotted his guardian angel on a video screen.

"Boy, that was some party I went to," Mr. Jimmy nonchalantly began. Because the game was an automatic side scroll, he walked while he talked. He jumped a crate and continued. "Talk about a rock band. This one rock, Rocky, a boulder really, could play a mean guitar solo."

"Sounds great," Pelswick sarcastically responded. "Now what do you want?"

"I had a blast," Mr. Jimmy continued. "Me and some of the other angel guys later took a rocket and flew past several galaxies. Hard to imagine that Earth will someday submit to an epic battle against a growing civilization of angry lizards thousands of light years away. The only sad part that was deciding between this and volcano surfing underwater."

"If only you chose the underwater option—then the piranhas could deal with you instead of me."

"We were out and about exploring what is around us—making use feel like we're a part of something bigger—when... Hang on a sec…" Mr. Jimmy snagged the double cherry and ate it, earning points.

"Oh, I see what this is about," Pelswick aggressively muttered. "You're telling me that I need to do something with my life. For your information I didn't spend all day in the arcade. I was helping Julie with her rally earlier today at the library."

"Books are one of mankind's' greatest treasures. But that's an Aesop you learned in second grade… Now, back to my adventure—it was more fun than sitting around watching _Cops and Crazy Seniors_. Your Gram-Gram did a number in the season finally—literally. She sang."

"Aside from Gram-Gram's community service punishment…" Pelswick shook his head. "Look, I get the message: Think about your future and don't waste time being idle. Lesson done for this week. You can return to whatever activity you were participating in before coming here."

"Wait, don't you want to hear about the rest of my get together?"

"Nope."

Controlling his spaceship, he aimed his weaponry at his pixilated friend. He pushed the joystick's button, and a missile shot, hitting and eliminating Mr. Jimmy. The screen now read, "GAME OVER".

Feeling proud of himself, Pelswick folded his arms and grinned.

* * *

"I'm home!" Pelswick cried upon entering his domain. "And I had a fulfilling time involved in activities that will look great on my college resume."

He fearlessly added under his breath, "Including saving a universe from certain doom."

Coming into the living room, he grew surprised seeing Kate and Bobby taped up the walls. Duct tape covered their miniscule forms.

"Hey," Kate greeted, smiling.

"Whoa," Pelswick gasped amused. "What happened here?"

"A little game."

"Which is what? Duct tape you and Bobby to a wall and see who falls off first?"

"Yep, that's it."

"Are you ready to get down?"

Kate looked at her little brother. "Yeah, Bobby drank a whole bottle of lemonade before we started. Guess you should get him down first before his little accident calls for a mop and a bucket."

Pelswick maneuvered his wheelchair towards the Eggert family's smallest member. Less tape covered Bobby compared to Kate. Removing the few strips, Pelswick freed his younger brother, who belly flopped onto his lap. Bobby took himself off and waddled towards the restroom.

"So what happened after I left?" Pelswick asked while he detached Kate's sliver tape.

"Dad came back with Gram-Gram. They're in back trying to get rid of the pudding all over them."

"Who'd Dad get to look after you and Bobby?"

"Our neighbor. Bing Ramos."

"Sounds like he's one letter short from having a complete column… Dad didn't go for your proposal of watching yourself and Bobby?"

"No."

"You don't seem too distraught about it."

"Sure my proposal undermining the babysitting industry was a sure fire thing. And yes I do have my eyes on the new Teenage Backstreet Lizard Girls fashion doll. But Bing was pretty cool."

"What makes this fourteen-year-old cool?"

"Oh, he's not fourteen. He's nineteen."

"But you said our neighbor—"

"Our neighbor from the _other_ house. Anyway, did you know that he's a professional locksmith? He works the graveyard shift, which is why we hardly see him. He was telling me this one time he got a radio DJ out from a locked broom closet. That DJ host was so grateful that he gave Bing two concert tickets. Bing also told me some interesting business advice—networking, knowing people and getting connections to advance your own career. If you're too busy being a teenager, I hope we can get Bing again."

Hearing the news, Pelswick fell mute.

* * *

Sitting at a cafeteria table, Pelswick irascibly tapped his pencil. His fixated eyes stared at a blank sheet of paper. His expression displayed his irritation. "Ugh, still nothing."

His frustration extinguished hearing a certain redhead girl address him.

"Hi, Pelswick," Julie greeted, walking up to the table. "What are you up to?"

"Hey, Julie. Still trying to come up with some ideas."

"Right, your artist block. I'm sure you'll think of something. You're the most creative person I know."

Hearing the encouragement, Pelswick composed a small gratitude smile. "Thanks."

"Listen, about my rally. We are going to need books. Think you can spare some from your home?"

"Sure. My dad loves opportunities in spreading his books to children and the general public. We got a half a dozen we can spare."

"Great! I'm gonna go pester other students for donations."

"Hey, there's nothing major going on with me right now. Maybe I'll go around my neighborhood and see who else can donate."

"You're such a big help!" Julie picked up and plain cardboard box and placed it next to Pelswick. "Here's an empty box for what you can get. Thanks again!"

While Julie made her exit, Pelswick jauntily mumbled, "And it looks like Kate now has an excuse to get rid of some her 'highly inclusive' _Hoppity Bunny_ books."

* * *

"And now I'm gonna go around the neighborhood and see what books I can get," Pelswick explained to his friends Ace and Goon. The duo were walking around a neighborhood after the final bell rang.

"Wait," Goon said. "You mean these books exist outside the library and school?"

Ignoring the question, Ace replied, "I got three or four I can part with."

"Cool," Pelswick nodded. "Thanks."

The trio departed, and the young teen wheeled himself around his neighborhood requesting books. Everyone obliged. Everyone in the community knew Pelswick and saw he was, in general, a good kid; he disallowed any need to enact pity performances involving his disability. While he ended his route, he had nearly enough books to call for a second box.

"I sure hope Julie appreciates all this," he smiled. "Now I just gotta get home and see what books Kate wants to get rid of. Or, as Dad puts it, donating printed pages of knowledge for others."

He easily rolled on his way home and spotted his guardian angel once more. Mr. Jimmy was gazing into a pair of binoculars. He had them aimed at a tree with a dove in its branches.

Cheerfully, Pelswick rolled up to him. "I heard pointing those at the sun is bad for your eyes."

"Notice how the bird gathers what it needs and knows how to use its skills," Mr. Jimmy replied. "The only time it needs to show off its skills is for mating or demonstrating them in front of its newborns."

"I don't suppose you're telling me that you wrote a book about birds." Pelswick investigated the box on his lap. "I got a few of those already. And one here on tractors, one on dinosaurs, and two books on the Sputnik from Ace."

"I'm having fun with my new binoculars I won."

"You and your guardian angel crew go on another retreat? Do you guys ever get stressed or mopey about anything?"

"And you'll never guess what we did."

Pelswick pondered if his spiritual advisor had truly gone on any of these adventures. He knew the man's eccentric pattern regarding life advice. Recalling their previous conversation, he griped, "What's the lesson now? Don't overwhelm yourself with work and extracurricular activities? Learn to relax? Give me a break! I'm thirteen. Slacking off is what we teens do best."

"Judging by your Grade Point Average, I'd hafta agree."

"It's great that you and your friends are having fun together, assuming that you're doing what you actually said you did. But why are you here? Nothing bad has happened this week. I haven't been tempted to cause any mischief or face some life-alternating event. What gives?"

"I'm at this other party," Mr. Jimmy began. "Me and the guys are tossing rings over soda bottles. One guy Marc sees another guardian angel Chris getting all the attention. So he tries to throw five rings at one time. He barely misses the neck and knocks over every bottle. Most of the guys were not thrilled."

"Are you telling me that even guardian angels can get competitive from time to time?"

"Everyone but me. I had a good time. In addition to the binoculars, I also won a pair of pants made out of magnets."

A truck passing by caught the magnet's attention, and Mr. Jimmy yelled while he was pulled away.

Pelswick thought for a moment, brainstorming any possible ideas for a comic about a man getting dragged away in such a manner.

"Nope, nothing I can get from that."

* * *

Pelswick sat on his bed along with scrap paper sheets next to him. He once used them for sketches and doodles. However, still undergoing a shortfall of ideas, he instead constructed paper airplanes. Completing one, he casually tossed it. The plane flew smoothly and landed into his trashcan. Next to that was the box filled with books and magazines.

His concentration broke upon his door knocking. He spotted his sister. Seeing a fabric fox design, he asked, "What do you have over your face?"

"It's a mask," Kate explained. "Bing brought over his recyclables and had me and Bobby make masks. He showed me how to be frugal even with reliable income."

"A seven-year-old who knows how to manage her allowance like an influential tycoon," Pelswick remarked amused. "Why was our neighbor over? Dad was already here when I got home."

"You weren't home when Dad had to get Gram-Gram right away at the animal shelter for her community sentenced. They caught her teaching dogs how to play cards. She nearly cleaned them out of their bones and doggy treats. Bing left after Dad and Gram-Gram came back. It was just enough time for me and Bobby to make these masks. Mine's a fox. His is a beaver."

Kate walked over to the box. "Is this what you've been doing?"

"Yeah, Julie started a campaign to get kids to read."

"That's what you got so far?"

"I went around the whole neighborhood after school. Now's your perfect chance to find a new home for those _Hoppity Bunny_ books."

The little sister worked her way through the titles. She pulled out a magazine and flipped through it. "Hey, here's a gag comic that our neighbor drew."

Pelswick grew surprised. "Our neighbor drew a gag comic? And it got published in an actual magazine? Lemme see!"

The younger sister obliged her brother's request. "I recognized his work. He also does a few gag comics in my _Economy Today_ magazine."

Pelswick eagerly gazed into the open page. The comic showed a man wearing a striped suit, and the joke involved a pun between the famous fashion line and a stuffed tiger. Bing R. was signed at the bottom, the same style that he had seen earlier before. He muttered, "I wonder if Bing is his real name or a pen name."

Kate smirked. "Now that we know who Bing R. is, it makes me wonder if he's too old to have submitted his work to _Economy Today_. He's only nineteen, and he has his work shown in _Economy Today_ and _Lowlights for Kids_. Looks like he has plenty of 'imagination' and 'drive'."

"Hey, I'm thirteen. My 'imagination' and 'drive' are just as strong as his. Stronger. And I had my stuff printed in the Alcatraz Middle School paper."

"You've got your foot in the door. I suppose that's something."

The boy wearing the red baseball cap studied the cartoon once more. The published illustration embroiled sharp lines and black shadows, which highly contrasted his own work that entangled round edges and thin lines. The caption was so simple, yet that simple glance could give anyone a chuckle. He grew uneasy.

"Now I remember what I came in for," Kate said. "You still have your _Brain Sucker_ cards, right?"

"Who's asking," Pelswick retorted, shifting his composure.

"I mentioned them to Bing after I was snooping through your stuff. He said that he'll give you ten dollars for your entire case."

"Ten dollars? The entire case?"

"He'd figure you blow the money on candy sticks since they're a quarter a stick. And that's a lot of candy sticks. Seems like a good deal; most of these cards are worth less than a nickel."

"Why does he want them? Since he's nineteen, isn't he a bit old to collect them?"

"I didn't ask why he wanted them. He said he'll give me a five dollar commission for the transaction, though."

Pelswick looked at his case in the corner. The onyx binder adorned with a sticker of a human brain with a straw stabbed inside and a lime green background had been sitting there and is now covered in dust; everyone at school had moved pass the fade. His eyes landed on the cartoon once more.

"I'll get back to you on that."

* * *

The following school day Pelswick gleefully wheeled himself along Julie while she walked. During their recess the children roamed the outdoors. They gathered into small groups and chatted.

"I'm so happy to see what we've got done," Julie proudly smiled. "I've been talking with the library staff, and they've agreed to let us host a reading event."

Pelswick enjoyed his time spent with the excessively entangled redhead, yet he remained distracted. One item that buzzed around his head were his guardian angel's recent talks. He understood the pattern; Pelswick had always been one good with puzzles. Now he needed to know their connection. He turned to Julie and noted her lifestyles outside Alcatraz Middle School.

Julie had been prattling on while the boy suspended his words. "I need to figure out the right date for the panel…"

"Say, Julie," Pelswick called when he found a break in her speech. "You didn't happen to have anything in mind to do when you're done with this rally, did you? Anything that helps you unwind after you do your extracurricular activities?"

"I do have one or two things I like to do." Julie then elatedly suggested, "Wanna get a mani-pedi with me? I know you won't be able to enjoy the pedi part, but you shouldn't neglect clipping your toenails and scrubbing your heels from any calluses."

"Uh…" Pelswick imagined elderly ladies surrounding him in a salon, some eagerly pinching his cheeks, followed by his male peer groups laughing at him. He also felt emasculated for knowing what a pedicure and a manicure were. He withheld his tongue to answer the invite when Julie's greatest frenemy Sandra came by.

"I got something to show you!" the girl with braided locks sang as she chirpily walked.

"What is it?" Julie asked. The tone between the girls demonstrated their usual tension between each other had been resolved… or at least placed on pause.

"I came by to show you this." Sandra held up a book. "It's gives advice and tips for designing clothing and wicked costumes."

"Oh, you found something to donate?" Julie buoyantly guessed.

"No, I brought it over so we can redesign the flyers with less, hideous outfits."

"Sandra! The flyers have been up for a few days already. It's a little late to change them."

"Well, can't we get a redesign? Or have a better one for the panel of the day of the event? If we want this event to be a victory, then shouldn't we dress for success?"

The redheaded girl growled. Before she plowed her best frenemy, she turned to Pelswick. She placed one hand over his and genuinely praised, "I'm impressed with all the books that you got. I'll call you later to talk about our next steps."

Pelswick looked down at her soft touch. He then switched to her eyes. He truly believed nothing could ruin the moment. While the girls participated in another physical confrontation, he blissfully met up with his friends at one of the school ground tables. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

" _Hole-la_ _mee a-mee-go_ ," Goon greeted, looking up from his flash cards. " _May goosta el kay-so_."

"Huh?"

"Goon's learning Spanish," Ace explained. "He just greeted you as his friend and said he likes cheese… I think."

Pelswick questioned. "Goon, why are you learning Spanish?"

"Cuz in places like Mexico, that's where wrestling is even bigger!" Goon excitedly expounded. "I want to be a _lucha libre_."

"Actually, the profession is called _luchador_."

"Does this have anything to do with the new wrestling game?" Pelswick asked.

"We went to the mall to go check it out," Ace explained. "It's fun seeing players remembering and using cheat codes while button mashing."

Pelswick smirked. "So you guys went to the mall. Pretty cool knowing a guy who has the high score in _Galactic Pinball_ , right?"

"Uh, I hate to tell you this, man, but you don't have the high score anymore," Ace forlornly mentioned.

Pelswick stopped his chair. "What?!"

"Yeah," Goon nodded. "Someone with the name B-I-N-G R. broke your score."

Skeptically, Pelswick shook his head. "No, it can't be the same one."

He nervously chuckled. "Well, it must have been by the skin of his teeth. My high score was, you know, pretty high."

"Uh, no, not really," Ace disclosed. "We saw it happen. This guy crushed it while keeping a strong poker face. Sorry, dude. On the bright side, you're in second place."

Goon innocently giggled. "Or as that gamer puts it, the first loser."

Ace tried to soften the blow. "Both your guys' score will be hard to beat. Statistically, they'll probably be up there for weeks. Maybe a few months."

The blissful moments Pelswick held now shattered. However, he tried to void his reaction. "All this talk about the new wrestling game and Goon learning about becoming a _luchador_. Where'd you learn all that?"

"Bing R.," the duo concurrently answered.

Pelswick grunted upon hearing the name.

* * *

Pelswick sat in the living room watching TV. The book-collecting box now resided there too. His Gram-Gram sat on a recliner skimming the paper. She scanned for any community service opportunities. She mumbled and grumbled, sour about her situation.

"And what would you do to win one million dollars?" the TV announcer asked.

"I plan to ride a motor boat through a hoop of fire!" a man excitedly replied.

The show ran, yet the teen's mind wandered. He reflected on Kate's gleeful expression whenever she mentioned her new babysitter. He also remained irked that someone effortlessly broke his pinball record. And the same person had his work circulated while artist block inundated Pelswick. His fingers drummed.

Quentin entered the room while carrying Bobby. The little boy held on to an old fabrics mask with a Popsicle stick holder. He sat the child down and asked his oldest son, "How was school today, Champ?"

"Still helping Julie with her rally," Pelswick answered. Using a deadpan expression, he added, "Goon's learning Spanish and might move to Mexico to become a professional wrestler."

"What a good way to learn and be open about other counties' cultures," the father praised. "And it's great that you and Julie are working together without Julie losing her own independence."

"Yeah, great." Pelswick watched his brother Bobby sit on the ground and stare at the TV. Despite the colorful program and the man losing control of his motor vehicle, the child's youthful face expressed only ennui, leading the older brother to inquire, "What's with him?"

"He's probably bored," Gram-Gram replied, looking up from the paper. "Any time Bing came over, he gave fun activities to do. Such a fine young gentleman. And a good-looking one, too."

"He has been a big help," the father added. "He's been great with both Kate and Bobby, respecting their individual gender identity and age group. We should invite him to dinner. We can all listen to Mega Dirt afterwards."

The teen in the baseball cap watch as Bobby took more interest in his childish beaver mask, a set of longing in the kid's eyes. He bitterly clinched his fists.

Gram-Gram, who had returned to the paper, said, "Looks like they need volunteers at a donation center. Guess I'll be organizing all the junk that people don't want and expect us to take."

Quentin stepped in, "Donation centers are a great place for people to buy slightly used merchandise without having to overpay for new things."

Pelswick grew apprehensive with what he heard. His Gram-Gram's antics amused him, but other times those acts became abhorred. His train of thought broke upon the phone ringing. "Hello?"

"I need you to bring over your box of books to the library," Julie directed. "And we'll need some time to organize those books."

Pelswick's eyes fell onto his box. Curious, his younger brother explored it. The contents seemed far more captivating than what the bright screen was playing. The child wearing the cap adorned with a spinner on top uncovered a book that engrossed him. Though he was unable read, the pictures seized his attention.

"Meh," Pelswick shrugged. "We're supposed to be encouraging kids to read. I can spare one book from my collection."

When Bobby finished scouting, Pelswick took the box and set it on his lap.

"I'll be leaving now to go meet Julie," Pelswick announced. "Unless you need me to stay."

"You go on ahead, Champ," Quentin gleefully insisted. "When those college administrators look at your application, I want them to see that we Eggerts are not afraid to get involved with our community and make a peaceful, non-aggressive difference."

"Great…"

* * *

The two teens met each other at the public library once more. The boy tried to clear his mind. He attempted to rebuild his enthusiasm; he was spending time with the girl. She proudly and valiantly fought for her view of justice. He followed her while she viewed the common reading room. Loose pages covered the ground. These books were young compared to the adult and young adult section, but in the hands of children, many suffered from torn pages and covers. Some even bore bite marks. Others had crayon and paint markings.

"Well?" Julie began.

"Well what?" Pelswick asked.

"I was expecting a little joke, something about the room we're in."

"Oh!" Pelswick tried to scramble something witty. "I guess not all kids have their butts glued to the couch and watch TV. At least it's a creative outlet."

The remark satisfying her, Julie nodded and smiled. She went through her purse and pulled out a notepad and a yellow pencil. "Write this down."

She tossed it to Pelswick.

"Saturday will be the best day to hold this event," Julie decided. "It'll give kids an event to attend instead of watching numb TV. Think you can come early and help set up?"

Early. If the teen left and the family's grandparent needed to leave her function, there's a chance that that young adult would enter his home. That young adult would entertain the younger Eggert family members. Everyone would talk about another kid-friendly activity while the eldest son would be left out of the conversation. A pencil snapped.

The redhead's focus broke. She turned to her friend and spotted the divided pencil, shards crumbled underneath. Her eyes then landed on the boy, and his detached facial expression appeared like he had just returned to reality. She nonchalantly reached into her bag, pulled out another one, and gave it to her friend.

Pelswick looked at the new pencil. The redhead appreciated him.

He cheerfully smirked, "Hey, if all goes well, we'll be supporting kids to read the books that their parents fight so hard to ban."

* * *

After spending the late afternoon organizing books, Pelswick returned home. He wore a genuine, relaxed smile. The hard work he placed in alongside working with an empowered girl rejuvenated his spirit. He felt even better to crack a few jokes. "I better find time to do my homework."

While the sun lowered and lowered, the city began to cool down. The boy looked at his wristwatch. It was almost dinner. The duo organizing the book rally concluded their activity early because of the library's operation hours. He wondered if his dad had to pick up his grandma early at her volunteer work. And that lead him to question if a certain babysitter needed to stop by.

The wheelchair abruptly stop. "Why is this Bing guy bothering me so much?"

Realizing their two's paths had yet to cross, he continued on. "Let's see… Who would enjoy pinball, business, trading cards, and gag comics? Ok, yeah, we may share some of those hobbies, but we're still different—his comics are different from mine. Uh, what has Mr. Jimmy's vague advice been this time? Has it been to just go with the flow? If Dad did invite Bing tonight…"

His mind conjured up a typical nerd image—thick rimmed glasses, zits, hunched back, short sleeved collared shirt with a pen-filled breast pocket, plaid pants, clip on bow tie, unadorned loafers, goofy teeth, high-pitched voice, and tidily combed hair.

He confidently concluded, "I've got nothing to worry about."

Pelswick arrived home in an upbeat mood. He opened the front door and let himself in. When he entered the living room, he unexpectedly ran over someone's foot. "Woah, sorry."

Despite his watchful driving skills, accidents happened upon time to time. Those who the teen hang out with regularly became accustomed to standing at a certain distance between their own feet to the chair's wheels. However, other associates were unfortunate.

He grew surprised seeing a tall, sleek young adult. An untamable cowlick in back upstaged his neatly brushed raven hair. He wore a stainless white long sleeved shirt. Above that was a black vest with a black tie tucked underneath. His black slacks carried undersized chains on both sides. His shiny black shoes now bore a scuff mark.

Before the young teen could question, Kate came in. "You're back early."

"Who is this?" Pelswick asked.

"This is mine and Bobby's babysitter Bing Ramos."

"You're Bing?!"

Kate turned towards the nineteen-year-old. "Bing, this is my older brother. The one I was telling you about."

The older brother stared into his neighbor's eyes. Bing's baritone voice uncaringly muttered, "Oh, so you're that _teen_ Pelsrick."

Scrutinizing the eminent babysitter's classy appearance, Pelswick lost any words.

* * *

In his bedroom Pelswick uneasily wheeled himself around, the closest act he owned to pacing. His mind played and replayed who he met. He failed to grasp that he met the man who his family praised. Praised by Kate for their mutual interest in business, praised by Gram-Gram for his striking exterior, praised by Quentin for their bond over Mega Dirt, praised by Bobby for the multiple activities he shared. Something deeply bothered Pelswick.

He soon got some company when Mr. Jimmy came on to the scene. Many times the peculiar man wore his usual white suit and black loafers. This time he arrived wearing a cross between a cowboy outfit and something any suffer would wear in the movies. The ensemble included a light brown ten gallon hat, dark brown boots with spurs, blue swim trunks, and an orange life vest. His nose displayed the excess sunscreen.

"Wow, that was great," the man in the shades extolled. He lifted up his hat, and out came a splash of ocean water, seaweed, and starfish. "Nothing beats bull riding dolphins. And my time was one of the best."

Pelswick ignored the man who visited him often.

Mr. Jimmy understood adolescents' moody behaviors. He had grown accustomed to the teen snubbing him, which is why he opted to make fancy appearances in order to get his kid's attention. He studied the teen's facial expression and what the teen could produce for body language.

"What's the matter?" Mr. Jimmy asked.

"How is it that Bing isn't a nerd?!" Pelswick yelled.

"What do you mean?"

"Bing knows a lot," Pelswick explained, regulating his anger. "He's a professional locksmith, he gave Kate advice in business, he broke my high score in _Galactic Pinball_ at the mall, _and_ he collects _Brain Sucker_ cards. Yet he looks like someone who could be on a rock-n-roll band poster."

He guided himself towards a poster near his bedroom door. He imagined Bing's face in place of a band member. He pulled away and growled, "Isn't his talent but lack of appearance supposed to make _me_ feel better? Isn't the lesson's outcome and lighthearted joke supposed to involve his discarded image?"

"Sounds like you've been watching too many afterschool specials."

"And to top it all off, he gets his cartoons published in actual magazines!" Pelswick glared at Mr. Jimmy. "And you knew about this!"

Mr. Jimmy causally shrugged. "Eh, what can I say? The things people do and how they appear can surprise you. As a guardian angel, I can only reveal so much."

He then vanished in a flash.

"Great, some kids get fairy godparents; I get stuck with this wacky guardian angel."

 **TBC**

 **A/N:** For some reason I decided to pick up _Pelswick_.  
Not too many people remember this show, but I know I've seen season one episodes while it aired on Nickelodeon.  
When I was watching it, I recalled bits and pieces, like the two Austrian rappers rap "Yo Butt" from "Draw!" or when Goon and his dad tried to find Germany in "Inherit the Wheel".  
I wrote this fanfic because the show is hysterical!  
I love how Pelswick engages in self-deprecation humor and is hilariously sarcastic.  
But I'm also drawn to how he loves and protects his family, which is partially why I wrote this.

I originally planned this to be a one shot; however, it's been tough writing the other half.  
I figured it'd be best if I copy and pasted the original document into two parts, and I will work on the second part when I can.  
I will be fair, though, and say that I'm also working on other fandom fanfics and original stories.  
Until then I shall entertain myself watching _Pelswick_ , re-reading the creator's autobiography, and awaiting any fans who may want to talk about the cartoon.  
I hope you enjoyed part one and please leave a review if you can!


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